Behind the Castle Walls
by axcel-lili
Summary: A royal engagement between two neighboring kingdoms was held to celebrate the crowned prince's 21st birthday. Then, the witch with an evil spell tried to ruin everything before the wedding; little did the evil witch know that her little appearance set the gears into motion for an even grander story that fairy tales has ever told.
1. Prologue

**Notes from the Author****: The characters belong to one brain—Fujiwara Hiro. Borrowing them is simply one of my fancies; it applies to all the following chapters. This is my first attempt to write something about fairytales. You might find some errors, sorry about that, and the characters might appear OC. Still, from the bottom of my heart, I present to you another story.**

**:**

_Beliefs say that when you wished upon a shooting star, your wish will most likely come true. There are many twinkling stars as I stand here tonight and the glowing full moon rested just above my left shoulder._

_Just like many evenings, I crossed my fingers again._

_But this time, my wish is different. And I said it out loud, at the top of my lungs. I am hoping the heavens may possibly hear me._

**:::**

**BEHIND**

the

**CASTLE WALLS**

**-PROLOGUE-**

**:::**

Castles cast a spell of fairy-tales and magical kingdoms from far, far away lands to our minds. They bring to us the fantasies of bold knights, fair maidens, royal princes and legendary kings and queens. This is the home setting of romantic stories that often end with happily ever afters.

However,

Let me warn you.

This is not your typical fairy-tale.

The story went when the famous witch who lived in a broken-down cottage in a clearing deep in the northern forest, outside the borders of the prosperous Kingdom of West Lazuli, received a midnight visitor one stormy night.

Loud rapping sound came from the doorway and the witch obligingly opened it, after all it's not like that she received visitor everyday, especially _these_ days.

"_Whirlwind—gust of wind, let the door be opened, magic revealed_

_Trouble be what he carry, coming in the cold-time,_

_Upon the night with no moon in sight._"

Suddenly, there was a terrific crash, rolls of thunder shattered the Earth violently but the air inside the little cottage was calm and different as soon as the door snapped shut. An eerie mist floated around the room, giving a slight chill to the daring guest even more when he stared to the witch's solemn round eyes.

Out of his sleeve, he produced an opened envelope of majestic, rich paper with the royal's seal on top of it. The witch took the crisp paper, gradually unfolding it without any word. The guest noticed how slender the witch' fingers were when he almost believed that the witch was a completely old hag, for she had her black hood on and for no living soul had ever seen the witch's exact true face.

"I am a royal messenger of the neighboring kingdom," said the man of thick accent and muscular built "My master sent me to give this message. She expects it adamantly the day before the wedding."

A cold voice replied behind the sinister hood, sending chills to his spine. The majestic paper in her hand was magically crumpled and was burned to ashes in her very palms.

"What prize your master is willing to pay?"

The guest rose from his seat, his rustling heavy cloak fell to his knees as he stood up. His strength hesitated for a moment when the light from the random candles started flickering, his hair almost stood on its end. The shadow casted by the brim of her hood wasn't able to hide the crafty half-smile on the witch's pale face.

"Your freedom."


	2. The Prince's Bride

**Notes from the Author****: **_Okay, late update. Sorry. First let me mention my reviewers in the first chapter-UnattractiveGoddess, SchokoCaramelCookie and whointheworldwouldbelievethat. Thanks a bunch to you guys._

_InnerFlame98: yeah, i just got a weird inspiration. Thank you for still sticking with me._

_Truelove77: ahah haha, yes the witch-responsible for putting lots of minds to pool of curiosity. Thank you for looking forward for more._

_Blommie8: I do hope I can! I'll definitely try._

_Tsuray: thanks for reading and reviewing!_

_*I had two Guest reviewers and one of them mentioned Tamaki. Who was this Tamaki?_

**:::**

**First Tale**

**The Prince's Bride**

**:::**

Once upon a time, long ago in a land where nights were bearably longer than days and where sand was likely abundant, there lived a very lovely princess.

Her beauty and her kind cheerful nature were widely known, surpassing all the other maidens throughout the whole kingdom. She was always with a song, humming soft melodies as she passed by. Her eyes were so pretty and her long flowing hair was always with a garland of fresh rose buds everyday.

Princes, dukes and sons of emperors always fill the castle in the hopes of courting the princess, for she was very lovely indeed. But the idea of marriage has never entered in her mind yet.

For years, this Kingdom has enjoyed great wealth and prosperity. It happened that one miserable day, famine and drought came. Without rain, the people were unable to grow their food, agricultural productions dropped and the people began to speak their troubles to the king.

The king, equally wise and kind, began thinking what was best for his kingdom and countrymen. He started distributing reliefs with all the efforts to help and words of assurance to his whole realm but the effects of the great drought were still there.

It happened when the princess became eighteen of age; a letter came to the castle. The letter, attached to a golden box, was with a promise of help…but with a condition to fulfil. Her father— the King— stomped into her room that day, cane pounding and voice urgent. A crumpled golden paper was at his trembling hand.

"My Dear, my child, the wise King of Kingdom West Lazuli has carefully selected you to be the bride for his crowned prince."

The princess stood up straight, a comb slipped from her grip. The king was very intent in his words but he looked a little grieved at the dreary prospect of parting with his princess.

She merely stared and gaped.

"In four weeks time," continued the King with an ill-toned voice to his only daughter "you will be married to the young Walker."

**:::**

"Don't worry too much" said the taller blonde boy "or you'll get bald before the wedding."

The prince stretched some more then released the arrow. It perfectly hit the shimmering red apple at a distance, he never missed.

"I'll get bald tomorrow."

"Come on, the whole kingdom knows she's pretty!"

Prince Takumi, standing with a large bow in hand looking impressive, shot his first aide a glare "The thing is I don't love her."

Shirokawa gave an outrageous laugh, the metal in his blade's sheath clicked as he elbowed his master's ribs.

"Now, you sound more like a maiden there, Your Highness! Hah ha!"

The prince, annoyed, released another arrow. His green eyes caught the small flash of silver light as it travelled in such a speed through the falling brown leaves and then to the wooden figure across the palace training ground.

He felt the cold afternoon breeze through his body and his eyes followed the shadows of the swaying trees and the scuttling leaves. The great sun was about to disappear behind the wide hills.

"Do you think," he looked at his gloved palm, eyes with a hint of hesitation and whispered "this will turn out right?"

Shiroyan, not used to seeing his master drowned in foolish thoughts, nervously slid his hands on his side and stood properly. For eight years of serving since the crowned prince became 13, he generally became the man who earned his trust. And all those questions, foolish or not, were all important to him because it means his thoughts and opinions were needed. Not because the prince was weak or wavering but because the thread of faith and belief they both shared had grown thicker throughout the years.

"I do think you'll find your happiness on the way" he said with honesty, setting his gray eyes on his master's broad back "Whatever will happen, I will serve as a friend and as an aide."

The prince knew him long enough to distinguish that he was not lying.

Prince Takumi's lips tugged a little and closed his eyes. His broad chest, rising and falling as he generously took an intake of air, didn't even flinch a little or give shy drumbeats—as he recalled—when he saw the princess three days ago.

When the news first arrived in his ears, he was skeptical and one of the first few things he uttered was a disapproving, horrified _What?_

This was a serious matter his insistent father and dotting mother had already spoken to him about around the walls of precious marble and gold and luxurious furniture. Not that he wanted to say no, but he felt that the idea was too hasty and surprising. He was just in the prime of his life—leading troop of soldiers, conducting gatherings in place of the King, learning the life of their people and discovering new things.

But he was a prince and he knew after all his other duties.

This marriage was to create alliance and form friends outside their borders. He somehow knew that someday this occasion will help their Kingdom in the future.

Looking at the princess, he could immediately say she was the prettiest face he had ever seen. She laughed the softest and so graceful when she spoke.

"The stars," she said as she leaned on the wall, straining her eyes to the tangerine sky "…are beginning to show their glow."

The prince recognized her, stood next to her and nodded silently. His aide had excused himself, clearing his throat with a teasing twinkle in his eyes before he left.

The wind picked up, blowing her bangs and her long purple dress. She was so delicate yet brave, putting up a strong front despite all her worries and fears. Her pair of dreamy eyes looked into the direction of her former home, her father's castle.

He noticed the slight blush on her cheeks, making her more angelic in his eyes but not enough to make his silly heart pound. His heart was whispering something odd and was like seeking more than pretty faces, still with his intact mind—playing as the greater ruler over his heart— said that the affection may come in another day.

**:::**

**I am a fan of the Japanese manga Red-Haired Princess Snow-White and the idea of Naoya Shirokawa being the prince's first aide was based from the character Mitsuhide. I just feel he fits the role.**

**Now, guess who this princess is. :)**


	3. Her Appearance

**Notes from the Author: **_First of all, I would like to thank again these wonderful reviewers—UnattractiveGoddess, StarElsie, Mystery XOXO and whointheworldwouldbelievethat. Haha, thank you! To the three guest reviewers, you never know how much happiness your reviews had given me. I really just wish you would put a name next time so I can thank you properly. *smile all over*_

_Tsuray: need not to be confused now, the princess will be revealed here. Yippee!_

_deathgod10: thanks for the wonderful compliment! Yeah, I love mitsu-kiki pairing, too. I wish Akizuki would make fantastic progress to their relationship very, very soon._

_InnerFlame98: as usual, your words flattered me. Aww, thanks!_

_Okay, so without any further ado, here's the second chapter._

**:::**

**Second Tale**

**Her Appearance**

**:::**

Hundred flags were swaying on the gentle breeze that blew the whole kingdom to gaiety. They were trimmed with golden linings, navy blue dominated the whole except the prominent royal symbol at the center—a soaring golden eagle.

The silver breast plates of the soldiers-on-duty shimmered like stars in the broad daylight, catching the eyes of every passer-by. They stood with full glory in an armor that defined their strength and loyalty to the royal family. Everyone, with a stern face, gave a salute—an act they were fond of doing—when the handsome prince, in his flowing white cape, walked so princely to the bridge connecting the castle's tallest tower on the right wing and the main gate.

He was in his royal clothes, a proof he was attending on duty, and his blue tip majestic sword he carried on his left side clanged in his every step.

"Do you know that it is a bad luck when a black cat follows you?" Shirokawa asked in a hush whisper like sharing a secret, hands cupped around his mouth, walking three steps behind his master.

Takumi, the dashing prince in this story, raised a perfect brow incredulously. He heaved a sigh, wondering what kind of strange idea was injected into his close aide's mind again.

"It depends," he said without any humor, not sparing his aide a glance "Are you a man or a mouse?"

Shirokawa gasped at the thought that his Highness was able to come up a very sensible reasoning. He looked back and saw the black cat still tugging along; its golden pair of eyes was looking back at him intently. There was something in it that gives him a strange feeling.

Then the wind suddenly blew a little harder, forcing him to shut his eyes for a single second. The glistening waters below the bridge formed small waves, disturbed by the cold wind's strong blows, scattering brown maple leaves in every corner and dust to their shirts. He turned around. He saw his master's wind-blown blonde hair and white cape like he was some sort of hero town stories often told judging from the way he stood over the sturdy rock bridge, the castle's high stone walls and white clouds above as his perfect background.

"As usual, you are awesome," the grinning knight said casually, his hand resting on his hip. He probably always thought of him like that ever since.

Takumi glanced over, eyebrows furrowing at his friend's latest strange remark. But he smiled.

The wind had died down and the peculiar thing that caught his peripheral vision was a very black bird's feather, drifting slowly to his aide's shoulder. He glanced above abruptly, he heard its flapping wings, his green keen eyes followed the small dot of living thing that was soaring to the tallest tower's very window—he recognized it was a crow.

There was nothing extraordinary watching a crow, in its tiny world, fly to the sky. Silence took over and an unknown force was telling him to keep watch. Dutifully, he stared at the existent blue sky, watching the crow with scrutiny until it miraculously disappeared and until the peeking great sun hurt his eyes.

Shirokawa, at the back, brushed the empty summer air at his shoulder and picked the crow's feather with great wonder.

He noticed the small details on the feather's end, it sent sparkles. For once, he thought it was magic. He noticed his master's glares, silent and obstinate, to the tower but he didn't notice the vanished presence of the cat that once trailed after them.

**:::**

She saw her reflection across the very huge mirror attached to the wall.

She heard the distant chirping of the birds and in her head was the cheery noise of the crowd hours before the ceremony. Today, at the castle's grandest balcony, she would be having her first official appearance to this foreign kingdom's townspeople with its own royal Majesties and only prince.

The room's windows were large, giving her the breath-taking view of the kingdom's great city, wide green territory and the graceful lake at its feet. For the marvelous castle was perched on a high rock, mountains were towering behind it.

Without a knock, the massive Oakwood door, polished and carved, slowly creaked opened. Its heavy structure complemented the intricate and artful designs of the whole royal guest room.

The princess, hands occupied by a bundle of purple tulips, smiled at her visitor.

Her visitor gave a strange smile in return tauntingly.

Gazing at her, now she knew why the princess from another kingdom sent her the unusual request. It was hard not to feel jealous at this exceptional human in front of her. Jealousy was one of the sins most people share in common. And in this latest case, that particular princess had eaten her up, completely for her to wish ill desires to another.

The witch continued walking. She brought her fingers to her head to take off her hood. The stream of summer sunlight fell perfectly on her pale face, the shadows emphasizing her high nose and thin lips. Her hands darted to her inner sleeve and slid out a bundle of fresh flowers.

"These are gifts," she said succinctly, not bothering to introduce herself.

The amused princess gave an even more endearing smile as she gathered the blooming flowers to her own hands.

"Oh, red roses!" she exclaimed with sparkling eyes. "In my kingdom only white and pinkish roses are raised. Thank you!"

When the princess uttered those rare words, her insides twisted a little. She, once again, was unable to understand the workings of the human nature.

This human in front of her didn't even bother to ask her why in goodness sake she was here. Instead of scrutinizing stares and offending questions as to why she was dressed so poorly—just a plain black cloak, tattered at the hem—or as to why of all gifts it should be a rose or as to what her name was, she offered a smile and thanked her.

The witch, feeling the coldness of the marble flooring under her feet because she had no shoes on, felt a little warm inside. Not only was this princess lovely at her appearance but also praise-worthy at heart.

_Death to the bride princess,_

_Never let the joy fall upon the palm of her hands._

She suddenly remembered the words. It was all so clear.

The sky was now darkening, accessorized by flat grayish clouds like they share the same ominous feeling. She gazed at the unsuspecting princess apologetically.

When the princess started sniffing the red roses so gently, the witch blew the flowers with a clenched hand. Her right palm's intricate tattoo glowed at her action.

The rose petals scattered at the princess' face along with the spell. And instantly, like fate has allowed it, the princess froze. Her long flowing hair, her dress, her smile and the bloomed roses turned into a statue of white marble except her heart.

For the witch had uttered these—

_For love is as strong as death, wash away the spell like a rippling river_

_Stones, like a seal, will not be yours forever_

The witch sucked in her breath, gazed at the once breathing princess that was now a cold statue. Anyone who would see this would say that it was a very beautiful piece of art, incredible that it almost seemed so alive in every contours of its face and wrinkles of clothes.

She noticed the princess' delicate fingers grazing at the once fresh roses and trailed her extremities at its cold margins. "She said these are red."

She saw the large pots and the hyacinth in it, they were close to wilting. Then her amber eyes saw the reflecting mirror beside the wooden shelf for books and decorated bottles containing handful of ginger sand.

Before she could see herself in it, she flicked her wrist and the mirror collapsed into hundred fragments. Its smaller pieces scattered around the marble tiles with an alarming repeating sound.

Urgent large steps quickly reached her ears. She narrowed her eyes as she turned around, her pitch black hair danced in the wind. She snapped her fingers and turned into a crow, with eerie sounds, faster than anyone could blink.

Two huffing men came passed the door. One was with a ready bow and quickly, hands shaking in anger, shot an arrow at her. The sudden gust of wind seemed like a powerful bullet. The windows, tall and wide, offered her a quick escape.

"Princess Chiyo! Woah, what the—!" yelled the man taller than the first. He extended his hand guardedly to the marble statue but was afraid to touch it, afraid that it might disintegrate any moment.

The first man observed the room, the broken mirror, the strange full-blown hyacinths and his ill-fated bride for a quick moment.

He saw the droplet of blood on the floor. He clenched his jaw and gripped his bow.

"Shiro, summon the soldiers," said the man, his eyes which were strikingly deep and serious green darted to the bird that was hurrying to a certain direction. "We will go to the north."

**:::**


	4. Into the Enchanted Forest

**Notes from the Author: **_Augh, we are experiencing rotational black outs, just so you know. And I have a life, too, so never really expect me to update awesomely quick. Dear reviewers—you are all awesome. Great compliments are what every author needs. So special mention goes to—louiseramz, whointheworldwouldbelievethat, StarElsie, pie480, Hayface and UnattractiveGoddess._

_InnerFlame98: thank youuu! for reading and reviewing._

_deathgod: ah, the witch. I might reveal her properly next chapter. Thanks always!_

_Lolo: waaah! Haha, yeah, here's the update. thanks!_

_NaughtyPurple: ow, thanks for the three claps! I do update late, always, so sorry about that. But thanks for reviewing!_

_I had nine Guest reviewers last chap! People, please put a name. I don't know if these guests were just one person or not. But they gave awesomeee reviews! You made my heart all giddy! Another note, you might find some mistakes in my writing, I apologize for that. I had spoken enough, so okay, enjoy this chapter!_

**:::**

**Third Tale**

**Into The Enchanted Forest**

**:::**

His eyes were squinting in an attempt to see through the blowing air; it was like a force harshly trying to push him. In his body, he felt the echoing, pounding hooves of his mighty white stallion to the forest ground—every time his horse jumped a little higher over a huge log or pushed through any thick barriers of random bushes and trees. And he heard all the eerie sounds of clashing leaves as he swiftly passed by, brushing his face and his arms.

He also heard his ragged breathing and maybe he knew exactly why.

He hated himself for being so careless.

There was no way he, the sole prince, would just trudge on back and forth on the polished castle's floors or just kick some small white pebbles scattered across the door or just start bellowing orders to every positioned guards as he waited eagerly for the news regarding the sixty missing soldiers that went to the mysterious, almost frightening northern forest. A number of horses had returned to the palace grounds, hooves kicking the dirt and voices frantically announcing their arrival, but the riders were all gone.

Every corner of the sky awkwardly showed up wearing gray and the people, steadily increasing, began growing curious about the sudden chaos running around the castle. Soon enough, he thought, people in his and another kingdom will know eventually about the truth. They were dealing with the infamous witch.

The prince clicked his tongue. It went unnoticed to his faithful aide, his serious eyes and his tight grip to his sword. He gave one look at him and he knew he would break another rule.

Prince Takumi took the reins of his horse; _he_ will deal with the witch and will find a way to break the spell. Decidedly, he won't come home tonight.

It was almost midnight and his eyes can no longer see the difference of the road he had taken some hour ago. Like everything was wrong. The forest was very thick; its smell was very close to his nose, filling his lungs. Its unwelcoming depth brings chills and the dozen small round eyes he saw perching atop the branches seemed like watchful guards looking at him intently. The sky was very dark and there were no stars.

His stallion gave another jump, avoiding the large fallen oak tree, and came to a quick sudden halt as soon as he landed. Maximus, his horse, gave a frighten shriek and sudden lurch, throwing unceremoniously the prince hard to the ground with a loud thud, passed through the strange arrangements of white stones.

They were standing roughly above the ground. Some were a little sunk, their existence hidden by layers of dirt and dead leaves for years. But they were there for purpose, running through the perimeters of miles and miles no one knew how long it extended.

"Ooff!" exclaimed the prince. His hands luckily had untangled quickly off the reins.

His lips twitched at the pain as he clutched his back. Alarmed and surprised, he started untangling his limbs off the odd uprooted small bushes when his horse ran in distress away from him. "W-wait Maximus!"

He saw his stallion's silky hair whipping wildly behind until it was gone. The shadows had completely enveloped its running figure even the sound of its hooves, leaving its rider alone showered in leaves and evening moonlight.

"Ugh, not you too."

He massaged his hand to his forehead, throbbing with an unusual pain, as his eyebrows drew together in a baffled, distressed expression. It happened so abruptly and he felt like a part of him—his memories, something of very little or a bit—was getting strangely blurred. He thought that maybe it was just because of being thrown in the air out of the blue that his head ached so much, like a hammer to a rock.

He stepped out of the shadows surrounding him and gazed at the forest and at its sparkling lake. He had heard all the different stories regarding this place and all didn't seem very, very nice. It was a common knowledge even the villagers knew.

He looked around and picked up his sword. His clothes might be torn a little, had few bruises at his arms but he ignored these small prints of injury and walked on.

That night, as his white cloak was flapping silently against the wind that was blowing unbearably cold, he saw a woman.

It was strange, he knew. But he went anyway.

A fallen figure was sprawled on the ground, lying unconscious under the looming apple tree. A few broken branches were at her bare, calloused feet and some were stuck unattractively at her tousled long hair that greatly resembled the color of midnight sky. She appeared like a sweet angel, to his eyes, with her peaceful closed eyes and slow breathing creating small puffs.

It made him stayed very still, when his hand—stained with specks of dirt—hesitantly pushed the tattered cloak that hid her face and when her pale skin deathly white that can be seen even in darkness strikingly captured his eyes. She looked pretty and those brushed-like dried blood on her face was something that complemented the way her hair had fallen across her features. Eternal clock stopped ticking in his ears and he remained for a moment long enough for him to forget everything.

But the air was blowing and the trees were silently whispering.

"Who are you"' he asked in the still air, quite aware the sleeping lady won't give him his answers right now.

The prince looked up, the moon was watching him. He unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around the unmoving figure without any thought. Her right leg was badly injured, he noticed a bit lately, like some sharp projectile had hit her. Stream of red blood had gushed out, and he decided she had to be treated at once.

Woods were blocking his way, shadows engulfed his vision. But his feet kept on walking, leaving the lake that shone like diamond against the black background. So he walked and walked until, like a magic, a house finally came to his view. In a narrow path, where the glowing moon has colored half the little house, he trudged on.

The thick ivy grew, very, very green, climbing to the house's small windows freely. The prince traced the door into the straw walls; its rough surface tickled his fingers. It was open and the inside was full of darkness, but he was not the slightest afraid.

No one was there.

**:::**

She woke up clutching her head.

It had been quite some time when she felt something like this before. Her first conscious thought was how in the world she got home. She didn't remember anything of the sort because her last memory was inexplicably diving like a falling cannonball back to earth, where there were lots of trees that lessen her supposed to be hard fall.

She blinked lazily and blindly stretched out her hand to reach for a blanket. And she reached for a hand instead.

_A hand._

And it was not hers.

She looked up and their eyes met. She froze on him.

A smile was on his lips and she knew he had just woken up, too. Signs were his dishevelled morning hair and slight squinting of his eyes. She didn't have the time to think whether they had skirmishes or meeting in the past because her mind was very busy, frantically processing what was he—a daring human—doing at her house, sitting a little close than normal at the very foot of her bed to be precise.

With eyes shot opened, brows furrowed the hardest and jaws dropped a fraction, the witch—yes, the witch—shrieked her loudest and grabbed what was nearest to her.

A fine chop of hard wood.

Without any warning at all like a martial arts expert, it hit right through the stranger's face even before he could even explain. He just said one word _(Wait!)_ and the poor stranger, landed automatically a bit hard against the wooden floor. Stubborn sunlight penetrated through the small gaps between her straw walls to his face, seriously it could have been a pretty picture. She gazed down at him, alarmed at her sudden action.

No one thought it was just an ordinary meeting.

**:::**


	5. The House of No Mirrors

**Notes from the Author****:**_ I intended this presenting the witch's backstory and secrets but I changed my mind. Sorry, it took me this long, ahehe._

_One thing I am always grateful for is my reader's reviews. It always lifts my mood, always, without a doubt! For the kindness of this people—cheery __**deathgod10**__, excited __**SapphiRubyCrys**__, curios __**whointheworldwouldbelievethat**__, dreamy __**louiseramz**__, adorable__**UnattrativeGoddess **__and sunny __**StarElsie**__—thanks a lot!_

_EvilRules41: I REFUSE! Haha, joking=) I just want to try saying that. Uh, who was PhantomWriter44?_

_Tsuray: No, Takumi is not the prince, dear! The freak author changed her mind! …Sorry, joking again. Okay, relax dear, just read this chappie, you are bound to confirm something :)_

_InnerFlame98: Eeeeiiii! *fangirl squeals* yes, yes. Every love story needs a romantic meeting._

_Guest: oh, writing without names? It's not that hard, though, hehe._

_I should stop rambling now, right? Excuse me, then. Lets raise the curtain._

**:::**

**Fourth Tale**

**The House of No Mirrors**

**:::**

The prince noticed alarmingly.

The way that thick gray smoke crawled so ungraciously to the castle's high ceiling and spread burnt-like smell to the entire room. Takumi, sitting on the soft couch, closed his book. He pinched his high nose and wondered loudly.

"What's going on?"

No one answered, his voice only echoed around the empty room. Now that he thought about it, all the guards were missing. They were not in their designated positions.

So he crossed the room quickly, following the source of the offending thing while flapping his arm vigorously around his face. He ran to the kitchen and opened the door. The streaming small sunlight through the high window hit his face.

"What—" he began, breathing with difficulty.

A woman was there, wearing a blue apron with a pan in her hand. She appeared overly nonchalant of the grayish smoke's suffocating embrace around her and still whistling a tune. He couldn't tell if she was trying her hardest to cook a breakfast or was trying shamelessly to start a fire.

For she knew his abrupt presence, she turned around.

A cute blonde baby boy was clutching her top dress, wrinkling her cloth in his chubby little hands. The young woman of midnight hair smiled at him, amber eyes twinkling, free of guilt or worry.

"Oh, good morning, my honey!"

**:::**

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

Takumi, sole prince of West Lazuli, screamed, throwing back his head. The expression on his face was extremely priceless.

It was morning and the cottage ceiling greeted him first. He was surprised and relieved it was just actually a dream, a really weird dream. He hasn't had a dream so vividly clear like that one.

His frown deepened when he couldn't feel his arms, he felt like his throbbing forehead needed a little massage, only to find it in a tight bind with his torso and the wooden post near the bed. There was that offending rough rope, screaming red in color, which was keeping him from standing and moving. He had no other option but to remain seated on the bamboo floor.

"Oh, good morning, you jerk," snapped a voice.

The woman from yesterday night was towering him, staring down. In her hands was a bowl. And if he had to guess, he would say inside the bowl was a fish, a rather large fish.

He remained quiet, eyes silently asking '_What in the world is going on?' _with brows all confused—like trying to send the message across eye to eye. Because he was supposed to be a guest, right? Supposed to be drinking some tea and not being tied in a poor wooden post early in the morning. Having hit so hard in the head… was already something. Now, to find yourself in ropes after waking up was just so plain rude.

Unfortunately, at that moment, the black-haired girl chose to squeeze all her anger in her golden orbs. Those eyes, slanted downwards in a glare, were nothing like those twinkling, fascinating orbs in the really weird dream he just had. Because she was looking at him like he was some kind of an unforgivable criminal who had murdered an entire town and burned ten barns.

The staring contest was gone, when the pompous lady walked suddenly straight out of the house. The door was opened wide and he could see clearly, from where he was sitting, what she was doing.

She put the wide deep pan over the castle of stones she built between flaming coals.

The confused prince blinked a few times, with brows knit together, he said.

"I apologize, young miss, I came in your house without your knowledge. I am sorry but I had no other option."

No response came.

He craned his neck, folding his other knee; it seemed his lower body was getting numb. The young miss, on the other hand, almost threw indelicately her fish into the big frying pan, acting so occupied like she heard nothing of his words. His voice drowned by the sound of the spluttering oil from the pan and her occasional hiss from making contact with the burning coals.

"I was just wondering if you could just untie the rope."

And another stretching silent treatment.

Young miss, I –"

"What's up with you, WEIRDO?!" She talked once again, finally, albeit in an ear-splitting manner. Maybe she didn't like people who were talking a lot and her patience for people like him was no bigger than a peanut or maybe she was already hungry and her breakfast was taking a little longer than she had thought.

Prince Takumi seemed perplexed; his olive eyes darted to her blazing eyes to her swinging arm.

"Well, I am—"

"Hey, Mister Castle Guard. I don't know what brought you here but let me tell you upfront," he watched how she stabbed the fried fish with her utensil aggravatingly "but I will not let you have the bee hive!"

So the prince, more perplexed than ever for being mistaken as a mere guard, scrunched up as he scrutinized what she had just said. He had a weird feeling that he needed to laugh but watching her, the way she was scrapping the bottom of the pan noisily and the way she jarred her annoyance in her glares, made him think twice.

So maybe she was dead serious about the bee hive.

"…No, I have no intention—"

One of her hand rose to the air along with her brow, and he realized the young miss was a lot better when she's sleeping than talking. She cut him off for the third time, he counted mentally.

"Of course, anyone would say that! But when you had seen my bee hives, you would fight for it, tooth and nail!"

He just watched steadily, not daring to answer, and sniffing the smokes from her cooking entering the house. She watched him with equal curiosity in return, gauging the truth and lie. Her hands rested on her hips, she never had thought about this much.

"Not even my carpet of clovers?" she asked in an unfamiliar voice and he found himself slightly shaking his head, sign of NO.

'I think it's already burnt' he said, casually changing the topic, noting the rather strange smell lifting in the air.

She frowned at him at the doorway and shrieked, promptly beating her forehead furtively after. She almost tripped as she dashed to her improvised stove. There were a couple of sighs and sagging of shoulders when she extracted her supposed breakfast out of the large pan. And he could tell she was not happy.

"Then Mister Castle Guard—"

"Takumi, just call me that."

"Oh, okay. Then Takumi, you should be eating this. Be happy."

"What?"

"You deaf or what? My fish—your breakfast!" she declared impertinently, ignoring his clearly not amused reaction and the fact that his arms were still tied. She shoved him the almost black thing she called breakfast over a silver plate, when the poor thing didn't seem to resemble a fish; even its eyeballs were ultimate black.

She was just really trying to fry it.

She failed. But she thought its okay, there's always a next time anyway.

The witch got to her knees, stuck a few strands of hair behind her ear and waved her hand. Takumi didn't see it but the flames she started between stones turned to cold ashes at once, like the fire was never been there.

And it might be because of her consistency of being absurd and unwillingness to show her other side that her brows dipped closer together. She had been meaning to say something but her tongue didn't seem one to cooperate of all times, so she drummed her fingers to her palms and pulled her hood over her head.

"You shouldn't have done that," she began vaguely, eyes hidden behind her long bangs. Takumi was watching her walk a few steps, wishing she would explain further because her words were unclear and her voice sounded sullen. She didn't look him in the eye.

"Because I am capable of healing myself, remember that, human."

He still didn't understand but he watched her turned, catching a glimpse of still intact bandage on her leg he had wrapped last night before the wind picked up. By the time he had opened his eyes, she was gone.

**:::**

Three minutes was all it took for him to break loose. The ropes were not at all stubborn, since they gave up clinging to him after some furious-and-patient slices from a broken glass he had reached somewhere by his feet.

Takumi stood up and complained. The girl was just too cruel to treat him this way. He nursed his sore butt and arms as he turned left and right looking for his lost sword. Small, creaking sounds were heard when he started walking over the cold bamboo flooring. The air inside the house was very cool and refreshing, like he was closer to nature.

His eyes grew large. He somehow admired the flamboyant odd collections.

Among the large indoor plants were hundred constructed wooden boxes lined up next to the wall. Inside the boxes were some random objects, separately bottled in artistically—colourful seashells, long quills, round and hard marbles, small twigs, silver spoon, rough stones, feathers, cutouts of flowers and smiling faces, parts of a broken music box and an old pencil sketch of a girl in a parchment.

The girl in the sketch was nothing familiar; she wore a long, simple gown and has long wavy hair. She was holding a child in her frail arm, throwing a stone into the gleaming lake and her reflection was on the water. But he couldn't see the face clearly for the sketch was really that old and some parts had been erased.

He walked further, skimming through the large shelves of jarred leaves and different seeds, labelled and arranged wonderfully, that seemed like her own apothecary. He felt relief and almost run when he saw his royal sword at the far corner, leaning next to a large book he soon would open, for the sake of his growing curiosity.

Takumi's brows drew in as he examined the fairytale book in his hand, it seemed like the book was never neglected. The other things in her house might have dust and spider-webs but not this exceptional one.

He turned over the hardbound cover carefully, peering eyes anticipating, like he was bound to know some secrets he shouldn't have.

The edges were a little faded to yellow, had gone through a lot judging from the stains and signs of being submerged in a water once. But the scrawl, handwritten dedication on the first page seemed forever new. He breathed heavily as he read.

"So her name," he said absentmindedly, almost in a whisper "is Misaki."

**:::**

**I finished this chapter once upon a day where the sun was shining so brightly it hurt my eyes. Then I said to myself "Wow! My longest chappie so far!" Sorry, I am not used to writing long chapters.**

**Comments are forever welcome. Have a wonderful day!**


	6. How To Make a Rainbow

**Notes from the Author****: Just how like the ocean is deep, so is my apology for updating so late. I have a lot of things in my mind and they are still bothering me under the light of a thousand stars. Anyway, I wrote this chapter wishing—to those who still have patience after such long absence and to those who just recently read my work— it will somehow make your day.**

**My apologies and thanks to these people- shiro, Tie-Die Broadway, deathgod10, louiseramz, InnerFlame98, whointheworldwouldbelievethat, Tsuray, SappiRubyCrys and StarElsie.**

**I shall raise the curtain.**

**:::**

**Fifth Tale**

* * *

**How To Make A Rainbow**

* * *

**:::**

The feathers of her flapping wings graciously fell off along the soft wind as soon as her feet touched the pebbled ground. No longer was there a crow but a maiden in black.

Like all stories that began with a young girl who started her journey on foot, the witch's eyes lingered at the city's entrance. Its large imposing structure was something that brought back a wave of nostalgia. For how many, many countless years she was trapped behind those thick walls, she did not know. And she has no plans of counting back all the times that was lost, since—she considere sometimes—it wasn't that so bad to be alone.

Before she could think of it, her feet were already leading her toward the opened gate.

The sun rose higher than any of those towering buildings and churches, great clouds floated vastly behind and the shadows that were hugging the ground, as she stepped on it, seemed to welcome her like any other. For once, it had been one of the cities in which no immortals could enter. But now, as what the jealous princess had promised, she got her freedom back.

This was the Lacus Road.

"_This should not have happened…"_ the old woman with a basket of pears lowly grumble to the other.

"…_I heard…"_ another one joined the discussion, briefly noticing the witch's amber eyes before scooting with the others, impeccably lowering his voice more.

Whisperings. These were the first things she noticed upon entering the streets proper. Do they know they were already tad obvious? Cupping their hands around their mouth like that?

The witch moved, deciding not to pay too much attention on various petty things. One of the stalls offered scrumptious breads and confectioneries; they smell so good, making her remember that she didn't have any breakfast yet. The rounded bread was oozing with amazing chocolate on both sides, sprinkled with some candies. Her eyes turned big, basking in pleasure at the sight of it –much like a child would do.

She looked up, only to see the shopkeeper eyeing her with incredulity, mouth set in an annoying grimace. And she immediately thought of a way to effectively punch the lights out of him. Only if he didn't interrupt her thoughts with a—

"Those are my best-selling bread," the bearded man said, chuckling upon learning the lady didn't have a shoe "and I don't think you can afford to buy even one."

She remembered humans were like that. Really quick to judge, annoying creatures.

But Misaki did not budge, pasting a poker face. Her hands were on her sides, curled up in a fist. But by at that time she was already considering to turn him into a slimy, jumping amphibian. Her hand slipped in one of her pockets, and found a ball of rough stone inside. Succinctly, she wished and fished it out.

*BAM!*

The man almost jumped in surprise and terror, feeling afraid that his glass table would break in a snap, grey eyes bulging out of their sockets.

"OH, CRAP! Did you just—"

"What? Not enough, huh?" impertinently questioning in half-lidded eyes. She watched smugly as the man's mouth turned into an O-shape, a really funny thing to match his muscles. And she resisted on rolling up her eyes when the latter started rubbing his big, calloused palms together with sheepish apologetic words of ever doubting her.

"So, so sorry, young miss! N-now, now just get whatever you want!" the man blurted out, terribly in high spirits as he collected the bunch of glittering silver coins over the glass table. "We still have some here, you want it, too?"

The blankness of her small face returned, dropping the little lift of her lips completely. She moved with an air of malevolence near the wooden shelves, waving a dismissive hand while taking out with her a brown bag of sweets, ginger breads and chocolate. She had taken a few steps out when she appeared to recall something, thus throwing a glance at the man who was currently happy with silvers. She blew a little air and the man tripped instantly.

"Huh." She snorted quite loud, leaving the guy in the stall nursing his head, petulantly spouting nonsensical words.

**:::**

"_This is the sorriest fate for their queen to encounter."_

Misaki finally found herself walking to the front of a familiar old, small house. There were quantity of people on the streets, and irritably she had to squeeze her way through the crowd at one point. Blame the stage show.

"_Yeah, too bad. The incredibly handsome prince of West Lazuli is still missing…"_

_*Crunch*_

She stopped for a while, inspecting what she had under her foot and frowned. A straw doll? Bits of the straw were already carried by the wind. She was glaring, ignoring the loosened black locks at the side of her face as she met gazes with an eight year old child with thick, chestnut hair.

"…_our princess is still worried…"_

"What?" she asked through closed teeth before turning her back, skipping her eyes between the damaged doll and the astonished girl, whose jaws were parted like it could hold a thousand flies or more. Misaki knew that she was not polite and not very helpful either, so she tossed her head back, bending to poke the little girl's folded knee. It has bruises, scratches and dirt. And she thought the girl hasn't taken a bath for days.

She asked again, "Then, why didn't you warn me so? And why are you in this corner squeezing yourself, huh?"

The girl with curly, chestnut hair considerably startled by the proof of the black haired lady's apparent quick and chilling nature, demanding answers as her eyes had assumed a vacant look. As for herself, she was silent, for the recognizable grumble in her stomach and for the unexpectedly annihilation of her dear Ruru, the straw doll, which depressed her spirits more.

"_I heard their King," _the lady with a blue parasol said, earning abrupt acknowledgement from the rest who were with a great hubbub, "_h__ad ordered death to the dark witc—"_

"BE QUITE!"

At that point, for some reason, she needed to scream. There was really something wrong with this town, the people were annoyingly talkative.

"You are too, too loud!" she glared hotly at them, "I can't even hear her speak!"

Misaki pointed at the young child, boots worn thin and was busy chewing her knuckles. And all of the people around them ceased from talking, astounded by the declaration of the impertinent black clad stranger.

"Oh, quit it, lady!" an old man with a weird moustache, who seemed to be a living nearby, yelled after a pregnant pause. "That child is a curse, can't speak anything legible!"

Roars of laughter came next. It was a familiar noise—the booming of their mocking laugh— and it was not very welcoming. Misaki chose to ignore them—sitting her witchy butt over the pebbled ground— their fading voices as they take their conversation to some whatever-place.

The pathway was a little narrow, consisting a mixture of old bricks and clays and a little sloppy due to the rain that fell the other night. The window panes were closed like the houses were abandoned sometime ago and the shadow casted by the thick cloud above brought a feeling of animosity.

Misaki had imagined the child to break in tears, like stand up, lock her fingers before her eyes and cry in ways older humans would never do. The annoying thing about them, Misaki contemplated, was their ability to smile though the times were hard; blinking back those salty tears to hide from the world though the sound of those laughs were breaking their heart to pieces. There were still lots of things Misaki didn't understand so she flicked the child's wide forehead and annoyingly grimaced at the child's struggle.

"Don't try crying. It's ugly."

Misaki stood up, bringing the remains of sweets with her. She would go home, to her little cottage and to the captive she tied on the pole. And she wondered if the fabulous brass gong she saw a while ago would look good with her collection of paper swans. She almost jumped, however, in surprise when a tiny arm snaked around her leg.

"Hey?!" she looked over, shaking off her feet. No one has ever openly touched her before.

The frightened little girl pressed her cracked lips together, squeezing her eyes shut when the witch's hand flew up. She braced herself. But the expected hit never came.

Her shoulders sagged upon turning her one eye up, feeling relieved after the horror of having a bruise cheek. It happens all the time. At times she wants to forget, it happens again. She doesn't understand why some people were like that.

"Okay, now, done," said the lady, triumphantly holding the straw doll barely an inch to the child's face and pulling it away in a flash.

"Now, quick, let go of me," the witch capriciously ordered with her hands on hips.

Her brows might be arrogant and her words were often icily overbearing, rude even, but to the homeless child, the blatant lady wasn't as daunting as she seemed. Little chestnut girl looked again at Ruru, who now has a red ribbon attached to its neck and even has a perfect pair of tin button for its eyes. Ruru didn't look like that before, but it was prettier now.

Maybe it was magic.

So she was happy, hugging the witch's leg all the more which made her shrieked in pretentious annoyance. She was then pulled and pulled until her butt eventually fell on the ground. It was a pretty hard and she wanted to yell at the ungrateful girl for hurting one of her leg, right arm and pitiful butt.

But it was then that little fingers started dancing along the soft locks of her hair. There was a disapproving look over the witch's face but it was perhaps, the feeling of looking back and staggering to remember the forgotten feeling of being ruffled in the hair made her give up. It was even more relaxing if you close your eyes.

"What are you doing?" unintelligently asking with a huff.

Of course, little chestnut girl did not answer. She was humming pretty happy. And when she was done, she clapped her hands together. The young girl had placed a flower crown atop Misaki's head and parted her midnight hair in two, hugging comfortably her cheeks and neck. There was something in the way she smiled that could surprisingly cut the sharp edges of the witch's lack-lustre heart.

Her lashes were beautifully long that made her eyes dark and deep. She could see the young girl giggle, spreading smile across her little face and the witch painfully wished she could see them in colors, too. For it was the truth that witches were generally colorblind.

She was seeing the world in the vast shades of white, gray and black ever since the knowledge of magic was passed onto her.

Her life always seemed like a sad story.

She longed to see what 'red roses' were, or how 'green' was the creeping poison ivy on her very window or how 'golden' was the every sunrise.

She looked at the girl who was wearing an idiotic grin, so carefree and naive. She took the small hands that now held a gorgeous acorn, which Misaki had just placed, and squeezed them together.

"Make a wish at tomorrow's sunrise," she said, more like a command, and straightened up, musing why she was trying to fight a smile, "And don't get me wrong. We are not friends!" she informed her childishly and because she had turned her back, whipping sheer wind enough to overturn a small cart, she missed the child's expression of utter bafflement and slacked jaws.

**:::**

Once in a while, she liked kicking the fallen brown leaves with her bare foot as she promenaded back home. For some strange reason, she felt like watching a baby swallow hatch or drawing a huge-eyed unicorn in a banana leaf. She even forgot about the brass gong and the ginger bread she had.

Maybe it has to do with the clouds, she mused as she decided that the one in the left looked like a frying pan and the other was a cat with a ball of yarn. But why was the other clouds seemed darker? They don't look like nimbus.

It took a second or two for her to realize that the _cloud _was coming from her house.

From her house. And she will not snap her fingers and say _bingo_.

Now, her dress was already crumpled by her fist, and probably all those cute animals near her had cowered in fear because she totally resembled an angry mother bear. She was not going to just stand there and stare at the stupid dark cloud, of course with her anger erupting like a vengeful volcano. She should have tied him in a tree full of soldier ants. She cracked her knuckles. "That stupid human!"


	7. The Prince, the Witch and the Visitor

**Notes from the Author:** _This is dedicated to everyone who had read this story and has been patient with my erratic updates. I have already said, the characters here are… well, you know quite different from what they really are in the manga._

_Special mention goes to __**InnerFlame98, Snivy8276, Tie-Dyed Broadway, aqsashahanii123, shannon0502, AvatarMomo** (for you i fixed the probs)__and some __**Guest **__reviewer for their support last chapter (which I had posted quite long ago). They filled me with awesome happiness complete with an upbeat music for background. Thank you for the kindness._

**Now, I shall raise the curtain.**

**:::**

**Sixth Tale**

* * *

**The Prince, the Witch and the Unexpected Visitor**

* * *

**:::**

"YOU, YOU!" Misaki shrieked, wide eyes bloodshot and raging, "How dare you to set my house on fire?!"

The lost prince of Kingdom West Lazuli raised his head, he stared.

"Don't you dare move!" the witch dropped her words with utmost urgency. Imposing. Panicking. With ardent burning eyes.

Takumi gave a curious look, blinking his green eyes twice and brows furrowing in a way she was sure majority of ladies would found it adorable. But Misaki found it creepy (sorry, she was definitely not one of those ladies) especially when he barely flashed his teeth.

"You're weird," he almost whispered, "really weird."

The golden haired boy ran the biggest spoon, which he awkwardly found being displayed at the wall, in the ceramic pot to stir its contents.

A stupid red ant bit Misaki's left leg. She instantaneously slapped her leg, poor red ant.

And somehow, thankfully, the panicking-for-nothing witch appeared to recover her wits. Her small dear cottage was still standing 100% over the ground, like the way she left it in the morning. It was not burning, but the coals his prisoner used for something suspiciously wonderful.

Her accusatory pointing finger gradually curled and brought it up to scratch her ear. She cleared her throat, loudly.

"What? I've always wanted to say that," she countered flippantly, watching at the corner of her eyes how he took a sip of the broth, made a face and sprinkled some salt, "I really just wanted to say that. I got you, didn't I? You're not just making it obvious." Her proud upturn nose clearly said that she would never admit she was wrong. And if he didn't buy her excuse, well, she didn't care.

She strode near him and tiptoed as she stood behind him, peeking at the space under his armpit to marvel inwardly how the murmurs of the bubbling pot and its tempting aroma could bring such excitement. It was almost surreal.

She saw chunks of potatoes dancing in the pot.

"What is this called?" She meant the dish.

Takumi took a deep bowl and filled it with soup, shrugging, "I don't know."

"Hey, I think you forgot something," Misaki dazedly remarked, eyes still fixed at the potatoes.

"Onion chives?"

"The heck I cared about onions. You are supposed to be there sitting on the floor, hugged by those ropes!"

Takumi took his sweet time blinking back at the odd, bipolar girl who at the moment was biting her upper lips. He had seen her wearing different expressions in such a short period of time. Plus, she was always angry for reasons he bet were weird when he knew it was him who should be angry in the first place—for reasons he sure were valid. He slapped a hand half of his face.

"I don't recall I even volunteered to do that, and please close your mouth."

**:::**

She wasn't even planning it. It just came.

She was taken aback, eyes bursting wide like a pair of swimming jellyfish as she stared at the chocolate colored guy hovering above her. In which she glibly remarked, "Nice fur."

It started when they were eating their lunch, thanks to the prince.

Two of his fingers were pinching the bridge of his nose, his hips leaning against the wooden counter of what she affectionately called _outdoor kitchen _as he brought up the matters at hand, patiently and thoroughly to make her understand.

He has been wasting a lot of his energy finding a way out of the clearing but everytime he found a path he always ended up to the place he first began. He knew he had to go out, but what troubled him the most was the purpose of doing so.

"I don't remember the reason why I have to," he shook his head. There was hope written in his eyes as he sought hers, pleading for honesty, "Nor what I should do."

She didn't fire another sarcastic rude remark. He frowned because a small part of fingers trembled at the contact of their eyes but he shrugged it off. She was looking up at him through her thin lashes, pursing her lips in a line as if holding back some words she wasn't supposed to say. A small bead of her soup escaped from the bottom of her silver spoon, creating a little wave when it dropped over her plate.

She was actually looking at him, with nothing but a blank face.

Her reply never came.

The prince sucked in a bracing breath and gravely, ran a hand to his downward head. He probably thought she was an idiot. He looked like someone who was about to cry.

Interestingly, she didn't laugh.

"What was your name?" the deathly serious witch issued back, bearing a question with no relation to the things he wanted to know.

His forehead creased, the idea was sudden. His name? What was she thinking? He opened his mouth but the words hardly came, "I—"

Misaki slapped rudely the wooden table, few grain of salt and pepper did a somersault. A fleeting recognition flashed in her eyes with the expression she saw in him. She crossed her arms over her chest, reverting back to her normal self.

"You trespassed in a place you shouldn't have, slept in my room without giving me a notice and now you were demanding for an answer that I am not capable of giving? Ask one of the fairies, if you ever saw one. If." she narrowed her eyes and continued when she sensed the boy was about to contribute in the conversation "I knew magic, but not the ability of knowing someone's past by touching them, okay."

"For all I know, you might be a castle guard from some kingdom I don't know."

By this time, Takumi could be mistaken as a leader of an organized crime syndicate, wearing expressions of brief angst. "You're a witch? A real one?"

"Whadda you mean _a real one?_ Of course, I am!" she was offended, obviously.

He blinked, looked at a certain place at the ground and then back at the huffing witch. He stood straighter, "Sorry but, how come you…" he seemed hard for better words, his hands alone can do the talking.

"The fish," he tried to say it slowly "why can't you magic the fish?"

Misaki, the rude witch, always has a scary face and with the unpleasant thing she just had heard added a thick layer of doom. She glared and took a nearby chopstick, hit it with unnecessary strength that upon hitting the table lengthen into a one meter polished mahogany staff.

Takumi, with great ease, deflected the witch's attempted blows. It surprised him: one, for the quick nature of pulling the mighty cerulean sword hanging in his belt and two, for the unexpected ridiculous strength the petite girl was giving.

"It wasn't meant to offend you," he quickly articulated, hoping the girl would stop shooting death glares at him "really."

"Oh, shut it!"

She was annoyed, not only because the handsome man's pointed out the truth but because she already saw herself losing and she would never let the man rub it in her face in the future, just in case he would. So she cheated, her little foot desperately kicking the man's shin.

The man stood still like a sturdy rock much to her chagrin, belatedly realizing he was taller than she thought. He was looking down at her with a face who was about to crack an amuse smile, probably thinking there-is-no-way-you-would-win-against-me with a principle most man has—never hurt a girl.

She rolled her eyes, unhappy.

"I will withdraw my sword," he said, kind eyes falling to her tight hand on her weapon "Just forget about this and let me find a way to—"

As soon as he said the words, an abrupt cold strong wind tugged at Takumi's hair and clothes. He never faltered nor lost his balance. He even opened one eye and grinned a mere inches off her face.

Misaki gasped.

And in her panic before her leg gave away, she blindly threw her free hand sailing.

Light hit his eyes and his body felt a sudden tremor. In the next second, as she flopped on the ground, a grown big bear was growling high above her head.

And the heavy metal landed vertically between her feet.

:::

Misaki sat over the chopped large camphor tree and propped her cheeks on her elbow. She got bored of laughing and of hurling fireballs at the animated bear at the distance. The bear has been running like forever, chasing the small animals—rabbits, gazelles, porcupines, swifts and elks—which dare to come his way.

The witch twitched her lips, saying things like she didn't know the man was a truly bully, frightening the weaklings.

But then again, probably his human-mind was off at the moment, completely taken over at the fact he was in four legs and marvelling at the sound of his new voice. Probably, yeah, since she don't have the power to communicate with animals. And don't have the urge to.

Misaki grumbled about dinner, she knew the sun was setting and couldn't see how gorgeously the sky was bloody red and orange. She turned to the gray furry rabbit next to her pot of dandelion and asked stupidly, "What is for dinner?"

The rabbit's ear turned up, twitching its small funny nose before hopping away, like saying it's-none-of-my-business thing. She could only roll her eyes at the treatment.

Misaki groaned again as she looked at the still running bear, not sure if she would admire his stamina or what, "Hasn't he tired yet?"

**:::**

The morning came.

She thought she forgot to close a window in her room, her feet felt cold and she needed a blanket. She tossed and turned blindly over her bed, not daring to open her eyes at the fresh wee morning.

Her room smelled of sun and hay and she wondered why as she gave up tugging the blanket near her foot.

A loud scream split her ears.

It sent her sitting, rapidly blinking the dust in her eyes and grabbing the fine chopped wood behind her fluffy pillow. She yanked it with so much force that it flew out of her grasp. She heard a loud thud.

"A-a….B-BEAR!" cried the little girl, who treated the witch's blue blanket like an armor, at the foot of her bed.

Misaki at once looked below her bed and found the unlucky bear's head (which was actually a man's) decorated with a wood projectile. She found it pretty familiar.

After what felt like an everlasting minute, she snapped. Eyes bewildered at the sight of her prisoner bear and the little chestnut girl, she growled, ignorant of the thick crust of drool on her chin.

"How did you two get into my bedroom?!"

**:::**

**Thanks a lot for reading. **

**This chapter probably brought you to lot of questions, patience dears :)**


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